


Perfectly (Imperfect)

by ParadiseAvenger



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Bad Luck, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, First Meetings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 10:03:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5535776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParadiseAvenger/pseuds/ParadiseAvenger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He stretched out his clawed hand, perched delicately on his overextended staff in the attempt to offer her a safe place to land. She saw shards of darkness leap off his fingers. Bad luck in the flesh as it whirled like stinging ice.</p><p>She heard bolts grinding and snapping.</p><p>“No!” Chat Noir yelled, half at her and half at the power that lived in his body, the power that sought to destroy them both.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You're Imperfect

I tripped over this fandom quite by accident. It was in a ‘Best CGI Couples’ video that I was watching and I thought it looked interesting. Come to find that I binged through the first thirteen episodes and here I am now. The whole time I was watching this show, I kept thinking, ‘They are so comfortable touching each other.’ 

Inspired ferociously by One Direction’s song, “Perfect,” and this lovely video which set it to Chat Noir: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V1_N-7Q2aKM

**X:You’re:X:Imperfect:X**

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was still trying to get the hang of this whole superhero thing. Up until a few weeks ago, she had been just a normal girl with normal worries—school, her fashion designs, her part-time job at her parents’ bakery, her crush that was going nowhere fast. Now, she had been transformed into Ladybug by a magic so ancient that she could not even begin to understand it, despite history being her best class. Sucking in a deep breath, every ounce of her focus honed in on chasing Prince Un-Charming across the roofs of Paris. 

Leaping across the gap created by the many narrow side streets, Marinette landed unsteadily. Her foot slipped at the instant of landing, slid slightly, found purchase in a leaf-filled gutter, and then she sprang away again. Her heart pounded, but she wasn’t short of breath yet. In her ear, in her very heart and soul, she felt encouragement from her newfound friend and companion, Tikki, who allowed her miraculous transformation into Ladybug. Basking in it, she barreled after Prince Un-Charming. 

A gap reared up before her. It was the span of an entire street with room for parking on both sides. Prince Un-Charming plowed on without hesitation, clearing the gap in a single bound with his cape flapping behind him. His twisted love song floated on the night breeze, mocking her. Marinette wasn’t certain she could make the leap as easily and she clutched her yoyo as a lifeline. Hesitation speared into her chest as she thought of the busy street below. Tikki’s wordless voice encouraged her.

Steeling herself, Marinette holstered her yoyo, took a deep breath to steady her nerves, reached the end of the roof, and leaped. The night whipped past her, pushing back her hair and stealing her breath. She was flying across the overpowering gap. She had never felt so strong, so sure, so free, so magnificent—

Something black slammed into her side.

She cried out in shock. She was so close to the opposite roof that her fingertips brushed it as she plummeted with her attacker. Windows and lights flashed past her vision and she landed with a painful crack on the sidewalk below. Breath knocked from her lungs and vision blurred with pain, she blearily tried to straighten herself.

A civilian gasped out, “Ladybug! Oh my god!”

“Did you see that?” someone else shouted.

“He hit her!” 

“Get inside!” Marinette ordered them. Her mouth tasted bloody and she ran her tongue over her teeth. She didn’t see the civilians leave, but she heard footsteps pounding away. Whatever had attacked her—one of Prince Un-Charming’s little minions, she assumed—was still somewhere nearby. She wanted to protect Paris. She didn’t want anyone to be hurt.

In her head, Tikki trilled a warning. It was high and loud, filling Marinette’s throbbing head with a volley of pain. 

Reacting on instinct to the sound, she pushed off the sidewalk and bolted sideways in a roll to avoid the incoming attack. No attack split the concrete where she had once been. Instead, her panicked strength knocked her into someone else. She rolled into and over him, sending them both sprawling on the cold pavement again.

A car horn honked loudly, blaring, mingling with Tikki’s worried cry.

Marinette rolled again, her shoulder bumping up and over the curb. She was out of the street, at least, but she felt a band of warmth along her side. Someone else gasped for air, as ragged as her own breathing. Reaching deep for the willpower of Ladybug, Marinette forced herself into a standing position. She grasped her yoyo and began swinging it. It blurred into a barrier of pink, something she could use to cut down anyone or anything in her path.

Tikki’s warning filled her head, making it hard to think, as she stared down at the shadowy monster that had tackled her from the sky.

It was a boy, she thought at first glance. He toppled over on his hands and knees, trying to pull himself back together after their horrific fall and then Marinette’s dislodging roll across him. Then, she took in the sight of what could only be a tail hanging from his narrow hips and twining with his legs. It looked like a belt, but it moved as though alive. Her eyes tracked higher, over a heaving back and broad shoulders covered in tight black leather. She heard a bell chime. 

“You,” she croaked. Her voice sounded nothing like Ladybug’s and she cleared her throat, swallowing blood. Had she bitten her tongue in the fall?

The fallen figure turned his head. Tousled waves of blonde hair moved with the night breeze. Black triangular ears swiveled towards her, listening. Blood matted into the hair at his temple, dripping down his face and over his cheek. She would have immediately begun to help him if not for the way Tikki’s voice rose to a shriek in her head and the sight of his stark black mask. Like her own, it hid his identity, disguising his eyes and creeping down over his nose. His eyes, cat-green and sharp, flashed over her just as appraisingly. 

“Ladybug,” she heard him say.

The name filled her head, unbidden, and Tikki fell silent. 

“Chat Noir,” she said in a breath.

With a terrific crash, shattering concrete and raining debris over both of them, a thrown car tore through the streets of Paris. Prince Un-Charming slammed down on the awning overhead. It creaked, bending horrifically beneath the force of his weight, and the support beams cracked up from their concrete anchor.

“I thought you were chasing me, Ladybug,” Prince Un-Charming mocked. “Have you found a new prince?”

“As if,” she snapped at him. 

She hurled her yoyo with all the force she could muster, hoping against hope that she could snare the makeshift scepter he carried. Even Ladybug’s luck could only do so much, though, and she missed when he jerked his arm to block the yoyo. It twined around his forearm and Marinette pulled with all her strength. 

Prince Un-Charming flew at her, cackling. Twisting against the grip of her yoyo and using its force to his advantage, he turned enough to plant in feet in her chest. The air blasted from Marinette’s lungs a second time. She flew backwards, dragging him along on her yoyo. Her back cracked into the wall of a shop across the street, shattering the display window. Glass rained down around her like stars. Prince Un-Charming towered over her, his scepter raised to strike. The sharp point gleamed.

Tikki screamed inside Marinette’s head.

Marinette closed her eyes. 

She was bound to go down as the shortest existence of Ladybug in history.

In a flash, like something from a nightmare, Chat Noir closed the space across the street in an instant. He landed behind Prince Un-Charming like a meteor, grabbed his cape with both hands, somersaulted over his head, twisted with a grace Marinette couldn’t believe, and jerked him sidelong. Blinded in the cape, Prince Un-Charming staggered into the street. The sharp point of his scepter caught Chat Noir’s shoulder and ripped through the leather of his suit. 

Chat Noir hissed, the sound as feral and terrifying as a demon’s. 

Marinette jumped to her feet. The glass crunched beneath her soles, threatening to cut through her suit, but Ladybug’s luck held. The words tripped from Marinette’s mouth, spilling like the blood from Chat Noir’s shoulder. “Akuma,” she panted. When she wiped her mouth, there was blood on her wrist. For a moment, she wondered if that was why Ladybug’s suit was such a rich blood red color.

Chat Noir’s green eyes lit on her face, luminous against his black mask and the blood in his pale hair.

Tikki’s small voice shrieked in warning, but Marinette blocked it out. 

“The scepter,” Marinette gasped out, “If I can break it.”

Chat Noir nodded, once, curtly. It didn’t seem like an agreement or a commitment, more like an understanding.

Marinette swung herself onto the top of a lamppost and began swinging her yoyo into a whirlwind. 

Prince Un-Charming had recovered during the seconds that they spoke. “How dare you do this to a prince!” he howled. He smoothed down his cape as he turned his powder-white face on them in rage and he raised his scepter above his head. “How dare you!”

Marinette hurled her yoyo into the sky, praying for something helpful, for something lucky. A mirror landed in her hands, overlarge with a distinct gold-gilded frame. Its weight pulled her down from the lamppost, landing hard on the concrete, but the reflective surface didn’t shatter. Prince Un-Charming froze mid-attack, his eyes trained on the handsome reflection. Chat Noir flashed out, blending in with the night the way Ladybug couldn’t hope to. He snatched the scepter from Prince Un-Charming’s lax fingers and skidded back to Marinette. 

She grabbed the scepter without waiting to see if he would hand it to her and broke it across her knee. 

On the other side of the mirror, Prince Un-Charming yowled as his transformation was undone. Within his wail, Marinette could hear Hawkmoth’s shout of defeat. 

The mirror folded into her yoyo and she swung it, lashing out to capture the darkly-beautiful akuma in its true butterfly form. When she released it, it was nothing more than light and harmless. She tossed her yoyo as high as she could, feeling the magic wash through Paris to undo what had been done, to mend what had been broken, to restore what could be.

The thrown cars and cracked pavement mended. Hastily, she stepped back onto the sidewalk before traffic resumed and looked at the mended window that her body had broken. It was a lovely display of hats, she realized, and it seemed so silly now.

“Thank you,” she said to Chat Noir. 

His bright green eyes widened. Hand still cupped over his sliced shoulder, he regarded her silently.

Marinette put out her hand to him. “I’m M—Ladybug,” she said.

He kept his hand over his shoulder, shielding the wound, but offered his free hand. “Chat Noir,” he said very quietly.

Marinette smiled as best she could. 

In her mind, Tikki shouted wordlessly.

“Nice to meet you,” Marinette told him. She withdrew her hand as she heard the warning in her ear. Her transformation would wear off soon and she needed to get back to her bedroom before her parents realized she was gone. Giving Chat Noir one last glance, she threw her yoyo and was gone into the night.

…

“I can’t believe you did that!” Tikki protested loudly as soon as Marinette returned safely to her bedroom with the window latched. “Didn’t you hear me?”

Marinette studied herself now that her suit had been peeled away. She could feel bruises developing all over her arms and legs, but she hadn’t been injured aside from whatever was bleeding inside her mouth. She took off her shoes and jacket, putting them aside on her way to the bathroom. Tikki floated along behind her head, chattering angrily.

“I heard something,” Marinette said as she rinsed her mouth. When she fell with Chat Noir, her teeth had cut into the side of her cheek, but it felt worse than it truly was. “But I couldn’t make out any words. It just sounded like a warning.”

“It was a warning!” Tikki shouted, her little voice reaching a pitch that seemed it could break glass. “You have to stay away from Chat Noir!”

“Why?” Marinette asked as she gingerly touched her face. Maybe she needed some ice. “I think he was helpful.”

“This time,” Tikki said bitterly, “but his bad luck could be the end of many things.”

“Bad luck?” Marinette repeated curiously. 

Tikki nodded gravely. “Ladybug has power over good luck. If anyone else had fallen like that, Chat Noir’s luck could have killed them. Your luck should protect you,” she explained.   
“You have to stay away from Chat Noir. He’s dangerous.”

Marinette untied her hair and brushed it while she thought. She didn’t really want to admit it to Tikki, but she was so new to this whole superhero thing and she really thought she could use some help. Considering how they had handled Prince Un-Charming together, Marinette thought Chat Noir might be the answer to her problems, but if his bad luck was so terrible…

“Are there other people with a Miraculous?” Marinette asked Tikki.

“Many. There used to be many more,” Tikki said with a hard edge to her voice. “However, you and Chat Noir are the only ones in Paris.”

Marinette sighed and put her brush aside. “Okay, Tikki,” she relented. 

Tikki threw herself at Marinette, burrowing against her dark hair and clinging to the strands with her tiny fingers. “Don’t scare me like that again,” Tikki mumbled into Marinette’s cheek. “I was so worried about you.”

Marinette cupped her hands around Tikki and cuddled her close. “I’m sorry,” she said gently. “I wasn’t trying to. I think I just need more practice.”

Tikki nodded in agreement. “We can go out tomorrow, if you like.”

“Definitely,” Marinette said, “Right after school. Hopefully Hawkmoth will leave us alone for a few days.”

Tikki tugged away and pressed her tiny hand to Marinette’s nose. “Luck is always on your side,” she said. “Now, why don’t you have a shower and get some rest. You’re going to feel that fall tomorrow, transformation or no.”

…

As it turned out, luck wasn’t as much on Marinette’s side as Tikki would like to believe. Hawkmoth struck again the next day, though with significantly less success than the previous. Marinette was grateful the akuma was such a pushover because Tikki had been right about one thing. Every inch of her body ached from her plummet the day before. Dark bruises bloomed on her knees and elbows and even on her cheek to a lesser degree. (She had been able to hide the bruise on her face with makeup as Marinette and Ladybug’s mask hid it now.)

However, Chat Noir arrived on the scene moments before Marinette defeated the akuma-victim. He was a distraction to the akuma, giving Marinette the opening she needed to break it to pieces. As the white butterfly fluttered away, Marinette let out a breath of relief. Chat Noir perched on the tip of the tallest spire of a nearby building. He jumped down to join her, hopping nimbly from flagpole to awning. It wasn’t until he nearly reached the ground that his bad luck showed itself.

It was then that Marinette understood why Tikki had been so concerned.

He landed on an awning of an open-air café and a gush of tiny black spots surged from beneath his feet. Horror shot through his expression as the awning crumbled beneath him. Innocent people had just begun to venture out from the shelter of the café to congratulate Ladybug. They would be crushed when the awning collapsed and Ladybug’s magic could not bring people back from the dead. 

Ladybug let her instinct guide her. She rushed forward, sweeping them all inside and out of the way with her yoyo and her body alike. What were a few bruises compared to being alive, after all? The awning splintered and collapsed. Its bright red-and-white candy-stripe pattern spilled across the sidewalk and road like shed blood. Traffic skidded around the ruin, causing tiny accidents wherever someone wasn’t quick enough to avoid the rubble. 

Stricken, Chat Noir stood in the middle of the sight like a stone for the ocean to beat against. 

Panting, Marinette picked her way across the rubble. She couldn’t believe what had happened, even though she had seen it with her own eyes—his bad luck. 

In her head, Tikki shouted a warning.

All around them, people got out of their cars to curse and assess the damage. People who cheered Ladybug’s name turned their eyes to Chat Noir like daggers. Children were sheltered away by concerned parents. A police officer pulled up on the sidewalk, his lights and sirens screaming. Chat Noir hunkered in on himself, shoulders curved. He looked small and young, like a starved alley cat being thrown from its home. 

The first shout came, but Marinette didn’t know from where. “Bad luck!”

It echoed, building like an avalanche. 

“Get out of here!”

“You monster!”

“You’re not a hero!”

“You’re just bad luck!”

“You’re not Ladybug! Just get out of here!”

Chat Noir flinched with each word as though they physically struck him.

Horror and then anger built up in Marinette’s chest. She hadn’t used her Lucky Charm yet and she hadn’t planned to, but she couldn’t let this go on. 

“Stop it!” she shouted and her voice cut through everything, infused with a power she hadn’t realized she had. She hurled her yoyo into the sky. In a blaze of light, the awning and the traffic were repaired. Blinking in the sunlight, everyone remained silent in the wake of her powerful magic. Marinette tucked her yoyo against her hip and marched towards Chat Noir.

He looked ready to bolt, his bright green eyes darting from her to the crowd to the roof of the nearest building. Something kept him anchored to the place where he stood though. Maybe fear that his bad luck would destroy something else if he moved. Maybe a twisted desire to take what he thought he deserved for what he had done. Maybe nothing at all.

Marinette stopped beside him, blocking Tikki from her mind. She grabbed his hand abruptly. His claws closed over her, pricking through her suit and into her skin. “Stop it,” she shouted at the assembled crowd. “Chat Noir is my partner!”

“Ladybug,” someone breathed.

“What?”

“No!”

“Ladybug?”

Beside her, Chat Noir tightened his grip on her hand.

She fought aside a wince of pain. “Chat Noir is my partner,” she said again.

“You can’t,” he whispered beside her. 

“Shut up,” she hissed at him. “You’ve helped me. It’s my turn to help you.”

He fell silent.

“I want him to be treated as such,” Marinette shouted at the crowd. “Any attack you inflict on him, you might as well inflict on me.”

They whispered to each other, stricken by this reveal.

Marinette jerked her head proudly. She unfurled her yoyo, lashed it to the nearest building, and, still holding Chat Noir’s hand tightly, spirited them both out of sight. It was harder to land with his weight in addition to her own, but her luck cushioned her hazardous trip. Chat Noir skidded beside her and then came to a stop beside the chimney. Smoke puffed idly from it, obscuring his expression for a moment as the breeze blew between them. 

Tikki shouted inside Marinette’s skull, her little voice bouncing like a hundred ping-pong balls. She put a hand to her forehead and took a deep steadying breath to block out the protests.

“Are you alright?” Chat Noir murmured. He took a few hesitating steps toward her, paused, and then backed up a little. “Am I affecting you?”

“No, no,” Marinette said quickly. “It’s just…” She hesitated. She probably shouldn’t tell him that her kwami insisted that his bad luck was dangerous and that Marinette needed to stay away. “I still feel that fall from yesterday, is all.”

Chat Noir lowered his eyes. Such a pretty shade of spring green should never look so sad. “Oh,” he said and then, “I’m sorry.”

Silence stretched between them as Marinette struggled to explain why she had just done what she had. She didn’t owe Chat Noir anything, not really, and Tikki was so worried about their proximity that she nearly deafened Marinette.

“You shouldn’t have…” Chat Noir began suddenly. He hesitated and then plowed on, “You shouldn’t have said that to them.”

“Huh?”

“That we’re partners,” he said softly. “I’m a curse.”

The way those words fell from his lips, like blood pouring from a fresh wound, so sorrowful and hurt that Marinette just couldn’t bear it. Her hands rolled into fists to keep her fingers from shaking. She wanted to reach out and throttle him, to pull him into her arms, to stroke his pale honeyed hair, to smooth the contours of his mask, to bring some happiness to those bright beautiful eyes. 

“How’s your head?” slipped from her lips before she could even think.

He looked startled and his hand lifted to his hairline subconsciously. “Ah, fine, I guess,” he mumbled. His eyes focused on her, scanning her lithe form and bright suit. “And you? Are you alright?”

Marinette bobbed her head cheerfully. “Just a little sore,” she admitted.

He lowered his chin, pressing his clawed gloved hands to his thighs.

“Listen,” Marinette began despite Tikki’s protests carving into her brain, “I could use some help and… I meant what I said. I’d like you to be my partner.” 

Chat Noir shifted nervously. 

She pressed her lips into a fine line and admitted, “Since my powers are all about good luck, maybe I can balance yours out. Don’t you think?”

His head snapped up so quickly she worried he might hurt himself. She thought of the wound on his head, hidden beneath his pale windswept hair. His lips parted as though he was about to say something, but then he bit down on his lower lip and went silent. “You don’t understand,” he said finally. “Bad luck is…”

“It’s just luck!” Marinette protested, cutting him off with the sharpness of her words. She felt the wound inside her mouth, a jolt of pain lancing through her as she spoke. “So I have all the good luck in the world! I still crashed into you!”

He flinched. His tail twined tightly around his calf as though seeking sanctuary. 

Marinette could have kicked herself. “I mean,” she corrected hastily, “no one is perfect.”

Chat Noir breathed in the warm air and let it out slowly. “You’re better off—”

“Promise you’ll at least think about it,” Marinette demanded. Without giving him a chance to agree or protest, she continued, “I’ll wait for you on the roof of the Café Cornucopia tomorrow night. Come meet me, even if it’s just to say no.”

Taken aback, Chat Noir nodded numbly. 

She stretched out her hand and patted him securely on his uninjured shoulder. His suit was firm, but his shoulder was thin and bony beneath. The warmth of his body seeped into her hand and she quickly withdrew. “I’ll be waiting for you,” she told him. Taking out her yoyo, she hurrid away before her transformation wore off, Tikki screeched a hole in her skull, or he could change his mind.

…

The second her transformation slipped away, Tikki launched herself at Marinette in a cyclone. She was talking so fast that Marinette could hardly make out a word. She had never heard her kwami curse before and it was almost more surprising than the vehemence with which she pulled Marinette’s hair. 

“I told you to stay away from Chat Noir!” Tikki shouted against Marinette’s ear to give her small voice the maximum effect. “And what do you do? The exact damn opposite!”

Marinette captured Tikki in her hands like a lightning bug and held her away. Looking down at Tikki, Marinette could see the ring of tiny crescents and scrapes that lined her palm where Chat Noir had gripped her, his sharp claws pricking through her suit and into her skin. “Didn’t you see how they were treating him?”

“Chat Noir is—”

“I thought Ladybug was supposed to be a hero,” Marinette said petulantly. “What kind of hero doesn’t help someone who needs it? Especially when that person is right in front of them?”

Tikki went silent for a minute, gnawing her lower lip. Her dark eyes were deep and ageless. For the first time since she met Tikki, Marinette felt a little prickle of fear for this ancient and powerful magic. She really knew nothing about it, about any of it, especially about Ladybug and Chat Noir. 

“Ladybug is just a human underneath my powers,” Tikki explained lowly. “Humans are not always heroes. They are prone to irrationality and weakness.”

“Do you think it’s weakness to help Chat Noir?” Marinette asked, cupping the tiny creature a little more gently in her hands. “Is it irrational to want to help him?”

Tikki didn’t fly up to tug Marinette’s hair or scold her again. She remained seated in Marinette’s palms, silent. 

“I want to be a hero,” Marinette said to Tikki. “I want Ladybug to be a hero.” 

She thought of the way Chat Noir kept his eyes down, his voice so soft, his tail twisted close to his leg, as he whispered, ‘I’m a curse.’

Tikki didn’t reply, lost in her own thoughts.

Marinette whispered, “I want Chat Noir to be a hero.”

Tikki let out her breath in a slow rush. She looked tired and sore, more exhausted than she usually did after a long transformation and ensuing fight. Tikki had looked ageless before, ancient and powerful, but now she looked old. “Just… promise me you will be careful, Marinette,” she said finally. “You are so kind. I don’t want to see you hurt.” Her eyes flashed and they were as deep and dark as wells. “I won’t see you hurt,” she said sternly.

Marinette nodded gravely. “I’ll be careful,” she promised.

Tikki shut her eyes and breathed out.

“Tikki,” Marinette whispered as she carried her kwami to the cushion by the window to rest. “Do you think what I said was true?”

“Hmm?” Tikki murmured. “What?”

“Could my good luck balance Chat Noir’s bad luck?” she asked.

Tikki settled into the cushion and closed her eyes. “Only time will tell, Marinette. Only time will tell.”

…

Marinette woke the next morning to Paris dressed all in white. Though yesterday had been unseasonably warm and Tikki looked at her meaningfully, Marinette wasn’t about to believe the overnight snowfall was Chat Noir’s fault. She would blame the weatherman for not predicting it ahead of time, she thought as she grudgingly dug out her winter jacket for school. She tucked Tikki into her bag with a snack and a little blanket to keep warm. 

Prepared for the day, Marinette stepped out into the crisp winter morning, promptly slipped, and nearly fell. She caught herself at the last second, smoothed her hair, and marched down the sidewalk. She met up with her best friend, Alya, outside the gates.

“Girl, did you hear?” Alya exclaimed as soon as she saw Marinette.

“Hear what?” Marinette asked, slinging her arm across Alya’s shoulders to keep her from running ahead in excitement.

“About Ladybug!” Alya nearly-shouted.

Marinette did her best not to choke in surprise, schooled her expression into something she hoped was innocent, and continued, “No. What happened with Ladybug?”

“Girl, you are so out of touch,” Alya said with a dramatic sigh. She pulled out her phone and leafed through some articles before holding on up inches from Marinette’s face. “Yesterday, Ladybug stopped another rampage. Chat Noir was there though and he collapsed an awning.”

Marinette grasped Alya’s phone and held it far enough from her face that she could see the pictures. They were low quality, as though taken with someone’s cell phone, but she could see the shape of Chat Noir’s dark body standing amidst the ruin. She scrolled through the pictures until she found a grainy one of Ladybug coming to stand at his side. Was that really what she looked like?

“You know how Chat Noir is a menace, right?” Alya continued. “His bad luck is a curse, but Ladybug—” she paused to swoon dramatically “—Ladybug is so cool. She announced that Chat Noir was her partner.”

Marinette handed back Alya’s phone. “Do you think it’s a good idea for them to work together?”

Alya shrugged. “I don’t see how it can be any worse than what Chat Noir does alone. Hopefully Ladybug can keep his bad luck in check.” She sighed heavily, looking momentarily saddened. “I just hope Ladybug doesn’t get hurt by him.”

Marinette swallowed thickly, still feeling the gash inside her cheek from her first meeting and subsequent horrific fall with Chat Noir. Though the pain in her bruises was already fading, she couldn’t help but think that if she had never met him, never crashed into him, she might never have gotten hurt.

Alya perked up. “But she’s Ladybug! I’m sure she’ll be fine! She’s so cool, after all!”

Marinette nodded in agreement, forcing a smile.

She ignored the way Tikki shifted meaningfully inside her purse.

Tonight, she would meet Chat Noir at the Café Cornucopia. Until then, she would do her best to turn her attention to school. There was nothing she could do about it now, if she could do anything at all, but she forced those negative thoughts away. 

Paris was beautiful and snowy, Adrien was in class before she was and she managed to say hello to him without dying, and it was going to be a good day.

…

Marinette clambered out her window, shivering slightly as the chill bit through Ladybug’s suit. She kicked herself for not giving Chat Noir a distinct time to meet her at Café Cornucopia. After all, ‘night’ could be any time after sundown. She really hoped he would come early and not at midnight since she had enough math homework to sink a ship. 

Slinging her yoyo from chimney to chimney, she made quick work of Paris. It really was beautiful, she thought, as she admired the lights glimmering off the white snow. Winter was a beautiful time of year, even if she hated to shovel the sidewalk. 

She spotted the tall roof of the building where Café Cornucopia enjoyed lovely outdoor dining all year round. The heaters worked diligently on the open balcony, but most people had chosen to sit inside with their cocoa regardless. Marinette snared the high cornucopia-esque spire on the roof of the building and leaped across the wide gap. Her foot caught a patch of ice and she nearly fell to her death. Only her grip on her yoyo saved her from a harsh plummet and she breathed out a mumbled curse. Rubbing her arms to warm them, she rolled up her yoyo and paced towards the chimney.

Much to her great surprise, she found Chat Noir already leaning there and she was very early. The sun was only just tipping below the line of buildings, casting everything in deep cool shadows.

“Ah, you’re already here,” she murmured.

His green eyes, luminous and as soft as spring, slipped over her. “I didn’t want to miss you,” he said simply. 

Marinette nodded. Her ankle ached a little, bruises flaring anew from her near fall.

Chat Noir’s eyes tracked the shifting of her weight. “You almost fell,” he said and pushed away from the chimney.

Marinette feared he’d close the space between them, take her ankle in his clawed hands, and do something drastic to try to help her. She opened her mouth to ward him off.

“I should go,” he said before she could speak. 

“No! Wait!” Marinette protested. Her hand shot out to grab him, but he slipped out of her grasp like an alley cat. She lost her footing on the snowy roof again, wind-milled frantically for balance, and started to fall.

Chat Noir’s grace aided him and his bad luck forced his hand. He grasped her arm, but her slide pulled him along. In hindsight, she imagined his toes curling like claws because he somehow found footing on the roof and stopped their descent, but he had pulled her flush against him to do so. Her hips were pressed to his, their legs tangled, and she could feel his tail against her calf. Her hands clutched desperately to the front of his suit, her eyes drawn to the bell at his throat. They were so close that she could feel his breath, smell his skin, and feel the heat of his body.

She wanted to push away from him, but the edge of the roof was dangerously close. “Thank you,” she gasped out. “That could have been ugly.”

“I should go,” he said again. His voice was soft and small. She felt his hand like a brand on her lower back, holding her flush against him and safe.

‘Safe,’ she thought. 

Her thoughts must have shown on her face because he asked, “Ladybug?” His fingers twitched, claws prickling.

She met his eyes, holding them. “I can’t make you stay, but… I would like it if you would,” she said gently.

“But, my curse—”

“I hope my good luck can hold it as bay,” Marinette said.

Chat Noir looked doubtful and seemed to be considering if he could untangle himself from her without starting their slide again.

Marinette was grateful for the snow and ice preventing him from fleeing. “We’ll never know if we don’t at least try,” she told him. Thinking of Tikki’s and Alya’s similar worries, she relented, “If it looks like it’s too dangerous, we can always stop.”

His gaze flickered over her face, gauging her expression behind the mask.

She tried to read his as well and wondered what he saw in her gaze. In his, she read longing and suffering, a sorrow as deep and ageless as the one she occasionally saw in Tikki’s dark eyes. She wondered if any prior Ladybugs had ever tried to befriend prior Chat Noirs. 

“Alright,” he murmured finally. 

Marinette wondered if he had found what he sought in her eyes.

“If you get hurt and it’s my fault—”

“I will depend on you to put a band-aid on it,” Marinette interrupted. 

Chat Noir’s eyes widened with surprise.

Marinette shrugged and the movement jostled his tight grip on her body, holding her safely away from the edge of the roof. She asked cheekily, “It’s the least you can do, right?”

A little smile tugged at the edge of his lips, fighting the serious concern of his bad luck. “It’s the least I can do,” he finally agreed.

Marinette beamed.

A sudden gust of cold wind pummeled them and Marinette shivered despite Ladybug’s thermal suit and the heat of Chat Noir’s body against her own. She abruptly wished that they could hop down into Café Cornucopia, have some cocoa, and talk a little more, but she had a feeling that would cause more ruckus than it was worth.

“You’re cold,” Chat Noir said and began carefully backing away from the edge of the roof. His heavy boots kept purchase on the slippery surface and he stomped the snow flat to make a place for her to stand. Carefully, he loosened his grip. “You should go.”

Marinette eased away from him, already missing his heat. “We need to decide how to stay in contact,” she said.

Chat Noir nodded and pressed his lips together in thought. 

Marinette bit back the urge to give him her cell phone number. This whole secret identity thing would take some getting used to.

“There’s a great bakery on the 21st arrondissement,” he said finally. 

Marinette’s heart skipped a beat.

“It’s called the Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie,” he continued. “How about we meet on the roof every night at seven o’clock?”

Marinette must have looked as troubled as she felt. Of all places to meet, Chat Noir had managed to choose the roof of her parents’ bakery.

“Or we can meet somewhere else,” he added hastily.

“No, no,” Marientte said quickly. “It’s fine. That’s a good place to meet until we can think of something more permanent. I don’t suppose you want to swap cell phone numbers, after all.”

Another little smile teased the edge of his mouth and Marinette found herself wondering how he would look if he smiled for real.

“So, tomorrow night at seven on the roof of the Boulangerie Patisserie,” she repeated. “I will see you there, partner.” She offered her hand to him, grinning at the surprise etched on his features.

Chat Noir recovered quickly, clasped her hand, and squeezed with cautious gentleness. “I look forward to it,” he hesitated, “partner.”

Marinette smiled at him broadly. She took out her yoyo and whipped away. She wasn’t paying much attention to her surroundings, but she didn’t slip a single time on the way home. She hoped Chat Noir’s trip home was just as, well, lucky.

…

Marinette really couldn’t believe Chloé Bourgeois. There should be a limit to just how mean certain people could be. Chloé had tripped the poor kid who had just been minding his own business, just walking past her with his tray of lunch, and he had fallen directly into the mess. Chloé actually had the nerve to laugh at him and tell him it was his fault for not paying attention. Now, Marinette found herself as Ladybug staring up into the ravaged face of the latest akuma of the week.

“I am Mystery Meat!” he shrieked, voice still high and shrill with puberty. “I’ll make you eat your words!”

Marinette entertained the idea of letting the akuma give Chloé a good swipe but changed her mind. The brave heroic words she had told to Tikki would mean nothing if she let petty revenge take priority, even if she wanted to see Chloé get what she deserved. 

She hadn’t really expected Chat Noir’s help with the akuma within the confines of her own school, but there was a muted thud on the lunch table behind her. Marinette whirled around, her Ladybug reflexes getting the better of her, and recognized Chat Noir at the last second. She averted her fist, letting her knuckles brush along his cheek and land harmlessly over his shoulder.

“Quite a greeting,” Chat Noir said. His eyes darted to her fist beside his cheek and then to her face. “Should I go?”

“Where did you even come from, kitty?” Marinette asked, the pet name just falling out of her.

Chat Noir spared her a glance, the edge of his lips turning up. “I was in the neighborhood,” he responded coolly. 

“Well, since you’re here,” she said, “how about I treat you to lunch?”

Chat Noir snorted. A flicker of surprise crossed his face.

Mystery Meat was a giant glob of the school’s horrific Thursday lunch options. He slung his fist down at them, smashing all the tables in his path. Marinette flipped nimbly backwards, landing hard on another table a few rows back. She looked up quickly, worried that Chat Noir had been smashed into meat pie, but he was nowhere to be seen. Mystery Meat studied his empty hand slowly, as though also wondering where Chat Noir had gone.

Something flickered at the edge of the ceiling. The tip of Chat Noir’s tail, Marinette realized with a jolt. He had jumped onto the ceiling and was hanging there somehow, only the tip of his tail visible from her angle. Mystery Meat realized Chat Noir’s position an instant after Marinette did and her warning came too late. He grabbed Chat Noir’s tail and jerked him off the ceiling with a bellow.

“Eat those words!” Mystery Meat shouted.

Chat Noir’s green eyes were wide, but they narrowed sharply. He looked like he did when Marinette first met him, a combination of lost and dangerous, like a cornered animal. From the small of his back, he grasped his staff and lashed out swiftly. The metal carved a swath through Mystery Meat’s gelatinous body, revealing the poor student beneath. With a shriek, Mystery Meat dropped Chat Noir as abruptly as a child stung by a bee. 

Chat Noir plummeted onto the broken table with a crack, pain tearing across his face. He rolled out of the way of Mystery Meat’s incoming stomp, clutching his staff to his chest. Marinette dove between them before Mystery Meat could stomp again. She grabbed Chat Noir’s staff, pulling him to his feet and out of harm’s way. 

“Hit him again,” she said breathlessly. “When you do, I can grab his lunch tray from under that mess.”

Chat Noir nodded.

“I’ll distract him,” Marinette said and lunged past Mystery Meat’s snarling face.

He swiped at her, to slow to capture her agile form though. Chat Noir struck him across his exposed back, tearing away the mysterious substance again. Squalling, Mystery Meat turned to face Chat Noir and he swiped his staff across Mystery Meat’s chest. Completely exposed from the waist up, it was an easy matter for Marinette to snare the lunch tray with her yoyo and break it in half. Mystery Meat dissolved into a puddle around the bullied student’s feet like a pool of tears. His lunch was still smeared across his torso.

Marinette threw her yoyo into the air, wondering what magic gave it the power to fade through the ceiling of the cafeteria and repair all the damage that had been done by the akuma attack. Chat Noir crossed to her side, standing beside her with both hands resting on the top of his staff. 

“Good job, partner,” Marinette said by way of thanks. She wasn’t sure how she would have handled Mystery Meat without him. She held out her hand in a characteristically Alya-like fist bump without thinking, because that was just what she did with her friends.

Chat Noir accepted it awkwardly. “Thanks,” he said softly.

“Does your back hurt?” she asked. “You landed really hard.”

“I’m fine,” he said. She felt his eyes flick over her like a physical touch. Self-consciously, she traced the wound inside her mouth and nearly cupped her palm over the scrapes he had left on her hand. “Are you alright, Ladybug?”

“Fine,” she answered with a sunny smile. 

Relief so potent that Marinette swore she could taste it crossed his expression.

“I should go,” Chat Noir said.

“I’ll see you tonight on top of the bakery,” Marinette said before he could leave. “Seven o’clock. Don’t keep a lady waiting.”

Chat Noir’s lips quirked with a tiny smile. He looked about to say something, but shook his head slightly as though convincing himself to remain silent. “I will do my best,” he promised her. Then, he was gone from the repaired cafeteria like a shadow slipping into the night.

**X:You’re:X:Imperfect:X**

Then, I read about Chat Noir’s powers of bad luck and this just happened. (I actually did think Chat Noir was the anti-hero before I watched anything. He just has that look about him, like he was meant to be a villain, but I’d like to think Marinette would change that.)

Does anyone know of a website with prompts for these two? I like to look through them when I first come into a new fandom and I haven’t been able to locate one.

Questions, comments, concerns?


	2. You're Perfect To Me

Is there a Kink Meme or anything for Miraculous Ladybug? I’d love to do some fills for these two.

**X:You’re:X:Perfect:X:To:X:Me:X**

Since Marinette lived at the bakery where she was to meet Chat Noir, she was careful to be there ridiculously early. She could risk him spotting Ladybug slipping out of Marinette’s bedroom window after all. Nibbling a cookie her mother had given her, Marinette sat down on the edge of the roof with her feet dangling. She had extra cookies on the plate balanced on her free hand, eating slowly as she waited. 

At exactly five minutes before seven o’clock, Chat Noir’s dark silhouette appeared. He crossed the snow-dusted roof carefully, heavy boots crunching the delicate flakes. He sat down a few feet from her without speaking. Marinette proffered the plate and he cautiously accepted a cookie.

“So,” Marinette began conversationally. “How was your day?”

A startled laugh erupted from him. Around his fingertips, there was a flare of dark spots and the cookie crumbled into dust.

“Have another,” Marinette said firmly, leaving no room for argument, as he brushed crumbs off his gloves. 

He took a deep breath, accepted, and ate it hurriedly. She wondered if he even tasted the cookie with how quickly he ate before his bad luck could activate again.

She felt in her bones that he was about to protest their partnership again, especially in the face of his bad luck rearing up, so she launched into a whirlwind of words that he couldn’t hope to break through. “I really appreciated your help with Mystery Meat today,” she said. “I don’t think I could have handled him without getting covered in, well, Mystery Meat. We should definitely keep working together.” She thrust the cookies into his face and continued, “I’m glad you were on time, too. There’s nothing worse than someone who is late to everything.”

Marinette was beginning to run out of things to ramble about. It was hard to carry on a conversation without pausing to think of her next topic and without talking about school or friends. In order to not reveal her secret identity, she was forced to talk only about the things Ladybug had done and seen. It was unbelievably hard.

“Alright, alright,” Chat Noir said when she stopped to take a hurried breath. “I’ll stay.” He nibbled his cookie more slowly, holding it delicately between the tips of his claws. “You don’t have to keep talking to distract me.”

Marinette breathed out a sigh of relief and then asked, “Was I so obvious?”

Chat Noir smiled slightly and that was enough of an answer.

She handed him the final cookie on the plate and then put it aside. Though he was seated several feet away from her and the winter night was cold, Marinette had never felt so comfortable. Within her skull, Tikki’s presence was surprisingly calm and quiet. 

‘This is right,’ Marinette thought. ‘This is right.’

Chat Noir breathed out shakily beside her, eating his cookie with slow treasured bites. She would have loved to know what he was thinking, but she didn’t ask. He finished the cookie and stood up slowly, mindful of the icy roof and the nearby edge.

“I should be going,” he said. “It’s late and I have—” He cut himself off, looking nervous.

“Homework?” Marinette asked. 

He nodded slowly.

“Me too,” she told him.

“We shouldn’t—”

“Look at us,” Marinette said evenly. “We’re both obviously teenagers. I think the whole world knows our secret identities must go to school at some point. Is there any harm in admitting it? Especially to each other?”

“I guess not,” Chat Noir admitted.

Marinette smiled at him. “I wish you all the A-pluses you could ever want,” she said.

His lips curved minutely. “You too, Ladybug,” he said. “Have a nice night.” With that, he removed his staff from behind his back, extended it, and used it to vault across the wide street.

Marinette watched his shadow until he vanished amidst the buildings of Paris. Then, she waited a few more minutes just for good measure before she slipped back into her bedroom window and closed it securely behind herself. Tikki’s transformation melted away and the heat of the thermal suit went with it. Marinette shivered and hoped Chat Noir was warm wherever he was.

…

“Ladybug!” Chat Noir’s voice pulled her from her concentration.

In her hands, her seemingly-useless Lucky Charm had taken the shape of a pathetic butterfly net. In the face of the waitress-turned-akuma before them, flinging deadly sharp silverware everywhere, it felt as though Ladybug was supposed to save the day by cutting through fog with a spoon. 

She ducked below a swath of knives that cut deeply into the building behind her and flashed Chat Noir a grateful smile. 

His face was still pale beneath his mask, looking almost white against the black. “No! Watch out!” he shouted.

Marinette realized too late that he wasn’t warning her about the akuma so much as he was the runaway construction crane that swung dizzily above her. 

Its hook, snared around a stack of metal framework, shook free as the waitress-akuma attacked. A hail of metal hurtled at Marinette like bullets loosed from a gun. Her breath caught in her throat, choking her, and she moved on instinct with Tikki’s voice in her mind. Twisting her body, she dodged the first and second long knives of framework. Her foot found purchase on one as it fell and she pushed off, lunging past the jagged metal. On the other side of the maelstrom of falling scaffolding, she could see Chat Noir. She surged towards him, hardly able to breathe.

He stretched out his clawed hand, perched delicately on his overextended staff in the attempt to offer her a safe place to land. She saw shards of darkness leap off his fingers. Bad luck in the flesh as it whirled like stinging ice.

She heard bolts grinding and snapping.

“No!” Chat Noir yelled, half at her and half at the power that lived in his body, the power that sought to destroy them both.

A long expanse of sheet metal snapped from the construction and plummeted. Anything in its path would be shorn in half, including Marinette and the akuma standing below. Heart in her throat, Marinette couldn’t reach Chat Noir, couldn’t reach a place to land, couldn’t turn her body enough to escape. All she had was the stupid butterfly net and—

She hadn’t known Chat Noir’s staff could extend farther than it already was. It bowed in the middle, groaning beneath Chat Noir’s scant weight, and then his hand was there. Marinette grabbed it and spun into his arms like a dancer. He locked his body around her, holding her steady, keeping a solid stance on his staff as best he could.

The sheet metal fell, quickly in the space between Marinette’s heartbeats. The akuma-waitress stared up at them from the street below in horror, knowing the end was near. Marinette thrust out the butterfly net and it expanded in her hands, engulfing the sheet metal within the confines. Chat Noir’s staff bent hideously as Marinette took the plummeting weight of the metal. She heaved with all her strength, bending back against Chat Noir, trusting him to hold her as she saved the akuma victim below.

He didn’t let go, even when she felt his body shaking with the effort to maintain his staff and support her. His arms tightened around her, his breath gusted past her ear, and he still didn’t let go. Using the net, Marinette redirected the path of the falling sheet metal. When it crashed onto the concrete, wavered, and then toppled harmlessly against the construction site, she let her breath out in a rush. Chat Noir’s staff gave in then. It lost whatever weak connection it had to hold them up as such a ridiculous angle and crumbled. 

Gravity sucked the air from Marinette’s lungs as they fell. Chat Noir curved around her, prepared to cushion her fall with his body, but she wasn’t ready for either of them to be hurt like that. She grabbed her yoyo, managed to hook the still-swinging crane, and halted their sudden descent. They swung wildly, momentum unstoppable, and Marinette braced for their collision with the building. Chat Noir abruptly managed to plant his feet on the brick façade and push back.

They swung like a pendulum and smashed hard into the akuma. Marinette lost her grip on her yoyo and the three of them tumbled across the pavement. Chat Noir collided sharply with some of the fallen framework, a yelp escaping his lips, but Marinette landed directly atop the akuma. She didn’t waste a moment grabbing the waitress’s terrible tip of one measly dollar and ripping it in half. The akuma dissolved and Marinette quickly pulled the darkness from the little butterfly.

She jumped to her feet and threw her yoyo into the air, basking in the light as it melted away the ruin of the construction site. The crane returned to its place, the sheet metal fit back into its bolts, and the fallen framework reassembled itself. Marinette let out a breath of relief. 

She turned quickly to face Chat Noir.

He had reclaimed his staff and tucked it back into his belt. 

“Are you okay?” they each demanded of the other at the same time.

Marinette chuckled, but Chat Noir’s face was dark with anxiety. “Are you?” he demanded.

“I’m fine,” Marinette told him. “What about you—”

“You’re bleeding!” He grasped her arm, turning it gingerly so she could see the long slash that bisected her forearm and palm. She vaguely remembered grabbing for his staff as it gave out beneath them, feeling blinding pain amidst the horror of falling. The recoiling staff must have cut her.

“I’m fine,” she said again.

Chat Noir patted at his pockets helplessly, but he didn’t have any bandages or even a scarf to wrap over her wound. 

By standing civilians began filtering onto the street again. Some of the waitress’s coworkers helped her up and ushered her back into the restaurant. One walked quickly over to Ladybug and Chat Noir, smiling with gratitude for their rescue of her friend. She had a white bar towel slung casually over her shoulder and offered it when she realized Marinette was bleeding.

“Thanks,” Chat Noir bit out. He folded the towel over Marinette’s arm and pressed. 

She hissed as the residual alcohol seared the open wound. “That hurts,” she protested.

Chat Noir dropped his hands as though he had been burned.

Marinette cradled her arm to her chest, keeping one hand pressed over the towel gently. 

All around them, Marinette could hear people whispering about what had happened. None of them really knew. They couldn’t have seen the bad luck leap off Chat Noir’s fingers and cause the crane to go haywire nor could they had heard the bolts holding the sheet metal snap when Chat Noir got close enough. They didn’t know the truth. 

But Chat Noir did. 

And Ladybug did.

She knew he’d run even before he’d moved. Sure enough, he extended his pole and vaulted onto a roof without so much as a word.

Ladybug cursed, flashed the attentive crowd a brief smile that she hoped would hide her concern, and threw her yoyo. She rushed after Chat Noir, hoping to catch him before he shucked his transformation and disappeared. The snowy roofs were treacherous and Marinette’s arm ached. She threw her yoyo, prepared to leap, when a jolt of pain lanced through her. She stumbled, lost her grip on her yoyo, and fell. Bracing for the bite of the roof followed by a plummet over the edge of the slippery gutter, knowing she wouldn’t be able to stop her fall with her injured arm, she took a deep breath.

Solid warmth blocked her fall. Braced with the toes of his boots in the gutter and one hand on his staff, he clutched her tightly to his body to keep her from falling. They teetered at the edge. Marinette heard more than felt his bad luck as it washed over the gutter. The bolts snapped and gave out beneath Chat Noir’s weight. He dropped, dragging her with him, but managed to grab the edge of the gutter before they fell. They dangled there, helpless. Ladybug clutched his waist with her good arm, unable to reach up with her injured one.

“Hold onto me with your legs, if you can,” Chat Noir said quietly. He held the gutter with both hands, but slowly reached down for her. “Give me your hand. I’ll help you up.”

Carefully, Marinette wrapped her legs around his thighs and squeezed tightly. His tail twisted against her calf as though to secure her. Protecting her injured arm, she took Chat Noir’s hand. He tugged her, helping her stretch for the gutter, and she gripped it tightly. His hand trailed down the curve of her body and found her knee. 

“Put your knee or your foot in my hand, whatever is easier for you,” he urged. “I’ll lift you up.”

Marinette nodded, loosened her legs in a quick jerk, and put her foot into his palm. He heaved, pushing her up over the lip of the roof. She sucked in a breath of relief and rolled quickly to offer him her good hand. With her feet braced against the gutter, she grabbed his wrist. Together, they managed to get back onto the roof and lay side by side, breathing in little gasps.

“You see,” he said finally. “I’m just too dangerous. My curse is—”

“The way I see it,” Marinette said, “I was already falling off the roof. If you hadn’t been here, I would just be a red and black smear on the pavement.”

Chat Noir breathed out hard. “Why can’t you just admit that I’m a danger to you and everyone around me? Bad luck is something to fear.”

Marinette sat up and looked down at him, trying to gauge his expression behind the mask. “You’ve been helpful to me,” she began.

“If I wasn’t here at all, you wouldn’t need my help!” he shouted at her and then immediately humbled. “Sorry…”

Marinette clasped the towel securely over her arm. “It’s only a scratch,” she said softly. “I’ll give you that if you hadn’t been there, the scaffolding wouldn’t have collapsed. But who’s to say that something worse couldn’t have happened? And I would have been alone.”

Chat Noir breathed out shakily. 

“I don’t know what to say,” Marinette admitted, “but… I’d rather risk your bad luck than be alone against Hawkmoth and the akuma.”

He looked over at her, his eyes luminous and sad.

“Really,” Marinette assured him. She put her hand on his hip, curling her fingers against his suit. Ladybug’s bright red looked strange against his darkness. 

With a heavy sigh, he put his hand over hers and squeezed gently. 

“So, promise me you won’t run,” Marinette said firmly, “even if something happens. Even if something like this happens again. Promise you’ll have my back.” 

He didn’t answer and his throat flashed as he swallowed nervously.

Marinette relented quietly. “Promise you’ll at least talk to me if you feel you have to go. Promise me that much.”

Chat Noir was silent for so long that she feared he’d cut and run just then. Finally, he squeezed her hand again and said, “I promise.”

Marinette couldn’t explain why her heart warmed at that quiet admission.

…

In the weeks that followed, it became easier and easier to face the akuma with Chat Noir at her side. They were an excellent team—most of the time. Marinette earned herself fewer bruises than usual but a couple more narrow escapes. She could tell that Chat Noir’s bad luck was affecting her, but she was loathe to blame their near misses only on him. She was just still too new to the superhero thing. If his fleeting expressions were anything to go by, Chat Noir was trying incredibly hard to keep his bad luck under wraps. Whether it was her good luck or not, he hadn’t collapsed anything or collided with her recently.

“How do you always beat me here?” Chat Noir asked as he landed in a crouch beside her on the roof of the bakery.

Marinette flashed him a smile, feeling her mask crinkle against her face. “Who’s to say I don’t live close by? Or maybe I take a train here.”

Chat Noir settled beside her quietly. “If you have to commute, we could pick a different meeting place.”

“This is fine,” Marinette assured him.

“So,” he began, “how was your day?”

Marinette chuckled. “What should we talk about tonight?” she asked. “Do you want to practice anything?”

Chat Noir studied his hands and she knew he was thinking about his curse.

“It hasn’t been that bad this week,” Marinette supplied.

“What if it’s just building up?” Chat Noir murmured. “What if it gets worse? What if it causes some sort of cataclysm?” 

“A cat-astrophe?” Marinette asked jokingly.

“I’m serious,” he said.

She sobered under his hard stare. “So what if it is?”

He wet his lips and she heard his answer well enough. He didn’t want her or anyone else to get hurt by his bad luck.

“Do you think you could harness your bad luck?” Marinette asked suddenly. 

He stared at her, puzzled.

“You know, I focus my good luck in order to use Lucky Charm,” she explained. “I’ve been thinking maybe you could use your bad luck in a similar way.”

Chat Noir examined his hands, the black gloves tipped with sharp claws, his obsidian ring gleaming with an acid-green paw print. He curled his fingers inwards, feeling the prick of his nails against his palms. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’ve never thought of that.”

“Your transformation,” Marinette began timidly, “it’s a Miraculous, isn’t it?”

The surprise on Chat Noir’s face was enough of an answer. “Is yours?” he asked.

Marinette nodded, cautious despite herself. She tilted her head to show him her spotted earrings.

“Mine’s in my ring,” he admitted and held out his hand to show her the flickering print. 

Marinette pressed her lips together for a moment and then continued, “So you have a kwami, don’t you?”

Chat Noir nodded.

“Tikki has told me a lot about my powers,” Marinette said. “Maybe your kwami can tell you about yours, too.”

“I’ll ask him,” Chat Noir told her with a smile that just touched his bright green eyes. 

Marinette reclined on her hands. Stretched out before them, safe and sugar-coated, Paris was beautiful. The lights on the Eiffel Tower glittered against the snow. Civilians strolled with lovers, children tossed themselves into snow banks, and there was no sign of Hawkmoth’s akuma. For the first time in a long time, protecting such a large city not only felt possible—it felt easy.

…

“Cataclysm!” Chat Noir roared. A horrific coil of bad luck appeared in his hand, spinning out wildly. Bits of it struck a vending machine and it began hurling sodas into the conflict in a way that shouldn’t even have been possible. Steeling himself, Chat Noir leaped at the akuma with his claws outstretched. His palm bit into the armor of the renaissance-knight-turned-akuma and melted it. He hooked his fingers around the man’s charm necklace, ripped it off, and hurled it to Ladybug. 

His aim was off and she had to leap into the air to catch it. She threw it on the ground and landed on it hard, breaking the metal dragon into pieces. From within, the dark butterfly emerged. She captured it in her purifying light of her yoyo and then released it into the air with a breath of relief. 

Chat Noir picked his way across the pavement. It had been hacked apart, deep furrows breaking it apart, by the possessed man’s sword. Behind them, the vending machine continued its flurry of inflicted bad luck. A soda hit the ground near Marinette’s feet, split open, and sprayed a fantastic fountain into the air.

She chuckled, shielding herself and Chat Noir with her spinning yoyo.

“It still needs a little work,” Chat Noir admitted and regarded his hand with something between pride and despair. “It’s hard to control.”

“Don’t sweat it, kitty,” Marinette said. 

The soda ran out of juice so she could stop shielding them. Tossing her yoyo into the air, a wave of soft light swept over the street and vending machine like a horde of invisible repair men. The buttery afternoon was quiet in the aftermath—no akuma shrieking, no sodas flying, no homework on a Sunday. She felt Chat Noir relax beside her as well.

“Cataclysm, huh?” Marinette asked.

Chat Noir looked a little embarrassed beneath his mask. “Is it… not good?”

“It’s great,” Marinette said. “I’m just wondering how many more cat puns you’re going to add to your arsenal.”

He paused, trying to decide if she was laughing at him or not. “I’ll have you know, I have just the purr-fect amount of cat puns,” he said finally.

Marinette snorted with laughter. 

A smile breached Chat Noir’s face, breaking apart his serious and slightly-sorrowful expression. He looked worlds different when he smiled.

“You look nice when you smile, when you really smile,” Marinette said. Something about being behind her mask made her feel brave, like she could not only do anything but say anything as well.

Chat Noir’s face went hard again, as abruptly as though someone had flipped a switch. “What?”

Marinette reached out and gently took his hand, the one he had used recently to channel his bad luck.

He tensed and she could tell he wanted to jerk away from her hold, but forced himself to stay.

“You know, we’re not alone in this anymore,” Marinette said. “We have each other and we have our kwamis.”

Chat Noir swallowed and shifted his weight from foot to foot.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to control your bad luck soon,” Marinette continued.

Chat Noir stared at their joined hands, the red of her suit like rose petals against ink. “What if I can’t?” he murmured so softly she almost wondering if he intended to speak. “What if I never can?”

Marinette squeezed his fingers. “It doesn’t matter, partner,” she told him. “I’ll just hope that my good luck balances you out.”

Chat Noir’s green eyes glimmered as he looked as her, so open and yet so distant behind the darkness of his mask. “Ladybug,” he whispered.

She would never know what he had been about to say. 

In that moment, civilians finally emerged from their hiding places. A news van barreled up to the curb and parked haphazardly. Journalists spilled out with their cameras and microphones and flashing lights. Marinette heard the soft beep of her earrings in warning, gave them one quick smiled, and tugged Chat Noir away. Together, they bounded across the roofs until they were safely out of sight, parted ways, and returned to their normal lives.

…

Marinette didn’t think it was possible for her heart to stop the way it did in that moment. It didn’t compare to the times Chat Noir’s bad luck had swirled past her face. It was nothing like the feeling of an akuma attack, even knowing one of her precious friends lay beneath the evil mask. It wasn’t like being Ladybug, taking hits and risking her life. 

The bottom dropped out of her stomach.

Her heart sputtered like a dying fire.

Sweat broke out on her neck.

Her breath disappeared.

The river Seine was fast-flowing and dangerous much of the year. At night, when the waters became icy and pitch-black, what was simply dangerous became a death trap. Marinette’s mind flared with a vision of a steel bear trap snapping shut around Chat Noir as he plummeted into the dark waters. 

The akuma’s laugh rang in her ears, drowning out the ragged beating of her own heart.

She waited for seconds that felt like hours, waiting to see if—by some stroke of luck—Chat Noir would break the surface. It felt as though a lifetime slipped through her fingers as the water rushed on and no mop of pale hair and bright eyes surfaced. Chat Noir was nowhere to be seen.

Panic made her sloppy, but it also made her quick. The ferry-captain-turned-akuma was between her and the water. She slammed into him, her hand catching the tiny helm pin at his lapel with luck alone. It snapped beneath the tight worry of her grip. She didn’t see where the freed butterfly disappeared to. She didn’t see the ferry-captain crumble to his knees. All she saw was the surface of the surging river.

And then, only darkness.

Since watching Chat Noir disappear into the river had already sucked all the air from Marinette’s lungs, there was nothing for the icy bite of the water to steal from her. The current pummeled her like a hundred fists, slamming her into something invisible in the pitch depths. She twisted her body, bending into the current so that it would push her instead of fighting it. The water stung her eyes as she searched for Chat Noir, but she couldn’t make out his shape in the darkness.

With a cry, Marinette surfaced, sucked in another breath, and dove beneath the waves again. She saw a glint of green, shining like a tiny beacon in the river’s rushing waters. She didn’t know if it was luck or desperation that allowed her to swim towards it. She grabbed the light and felt a slender wrist beneath her fingers. It was Chat Noir’s ring, she realized, and tried to pull him to the surface. She kicked as hard as she could, fighting the current as it battered them.

Chat Noir wouldn’t move no matter how she pulled. Lungs burning, she pulled herself down his arm and wrapped her arms around his waist. He pushed at her, trying to shove her off. She could feel his heart hammering, his chest jerking with desperation for breath, as he tried to push her to the surface. Fumbling, Marinette tried to pull him up again. He didn’t budge. In fact, she could feel the current pushing at them and realized something anchored him. He was stuck.

She ran her hands over his chest, hips, and thighs carelessly. She tried to find what had snared it and then she felt it, his tail was yanked taut. Something had snared it. She wrapped her legs around his and reached down his tail. It trembled under her fingers like a living thing and then she found the place where it had knotted to some sunken debris. She didn’t know how she untangled it—luck or fear or frantic strength—but she did.

The current immediately gusted them away from the place where Chat Noir had been stuck. He trembled all around her, his limbs frozen and starved for oxygen, but remained conscious. Clutching each other somehow, they swam to the surface and sucked in the night air. It was like fire filling Marinette’s lungs, searing almost as much as it had beneath the surface. She groped desperately for her yoyo, hooked it onto a bridge as it passed over them, and they were jerked free of the water like fish on a line.

They landed together, panting and shivering. 

Marinette rolled over. Her body pressed against Chat Noir’s side, her breasts squashed into his chest but she couldn’t bring herself to care. His arm was beneath her head, his leg strewn beneath hers, and his tail lay across her waist. She flattened her hand on his chest, feeling it rise and fall unsteadily. His breath shuddered in his starved lungs.

“Are you alright?” she gasped out.

He could only nod, heart hammering as he struggled to catch his breath. 

She buried her face in his chest, letting her breath out in a relieved rush that burned her lungs. The energy went out of her limbs and she collapsed against him. He seemed to be in the same shape, not bothering to untangle his body from hers or push her away. His tail twitched minutely, trembling.

“You… you could have been killed,” he said finally. His teeth chattered.

“So could you,” Marinette said. She was exhausted from fighting the akuma and the current.

“Why did you dive in after me?” He found some strength and forced himself onto his elbow, staring down at her with eyes that had never looked so much like an animal’s.

Marinette wished she had the strength to reach up and cradle his face in her hands. “I wasn’t going to let you drown,” she told him.

“Ladybug,” he protested. 

Marinette heaved herself into a sitting position. Her entire body shook with the aftershock of her horrific swim. “I wasn’t going to let you drown,” she repeated firmly. His tail still lay across her lap and she took it in her hands. It was a belt, she realized, complete with metal notches, but she could feel it trembling in her hands. 

Chat Noir didn’t pull away from her touch. He breathed out shakily.

In silence, they sat together, dripping. A pool of cold water dampened the pavement all around them. The sound of the Seine River flowing below—usually a soothing melody—gurgled hungrily. It made a chill run down Marinette’s spine. She was glad to be seated so close to Chat Noir, neither having found the strength to move apart or untangle from each other. 

Very softly and almost suddenly, Chat Noir murmured, “People used to drown black cats on purpose.”

Marinette tensed.

He didn’t say more.

“They were stupid,” she said coldly. “Black cats aren’t bad luck.”

A wry little smile pulled at Chat Noir’s lips.

These were all words Marinette had said in one fashion or another. She fell silent, stewing in the uselessness of her words. Chat Noir believed with all his heart that he was cursed, that his bad luck was something he deserved. She wondered if he would have let himself drown tonight or if the cold water and lack of air had made it too hard to free himself. Without a second thought, she put her arms around his shoulders and pulled him flush against her. Their legs were already so intertwined that they were pressed impossibly close.

Chat Noir froze, his hands hovering helplessly behind her back, as she squeezed him to her. She ran her hands down his back comfortingly, slipped one hand into his sodden hair to cradle his head, and let the other rest at the small of his back. She felt his ears twitch, tiny soft cat ears against her fingers not unlike the movement of his tail. She scratched gingerly without thinking about it. Chat Noir tucked his face against her shoulder, his breath pluming warm on her suit. Finally, his hands settled against her and returned the embrace.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Marinette said.

“Thank you,” Chat Noir murmured, “for rescuing me.” 

Marinette rubbed his back, stroked his hair, traced the shape of his quivering ears.

“For rescuing me every time I needed it,” he whispered.

She let the words hang between them, answering with only a smile she knew Chat Noir could feel against the side of his throat where her mouth was pressed.

…

It became even easier after that, as though the raging waters of the Seine had broken the dam inside Chat Noir’s heart. The flickering smiles and brief puns he gave Ladybug became something that poured from him like rain. The two melted together, mingling like they had that night. There was a closeness that couldn’t be matched, a trust that couldn’t be tainted, a partnership that would never be broken. 

As Marinettee grew into Ladybug, learning to take advantage of her luck and skills to the fullest, Chat Noir became even more so. He became less like the alley cat, slinking through the shadows as though he would be thrown out at any instant, into a suave and confident tomcat. He had always been graceful and powerful, Marinette realized, maybe more so than she was. His bad luck was the only thing that ruined him. Now that he could use it to his advantage, he was utterly half of her.

She didn’t know what she—what Ladybug—would ever do without him.

Marinette was pulled from her thoughts of how things had changed between them when Chat Noir landed on the roof beside her. They had learned to communicate through their weapons when they transformed and if only one of them was, the communication would go through their kwamis instead so they were never out of touch. There was no reason to meet on the roof of the bakery anymore, but neither felt the need to stop. It was a peaceful comfortable end to their day.

“Good evening, My Lady,” Chat Noir greeted silkily. He plopped down beside her with considerably less grace than she expected and handed her a crêpe. 

Marinette’s eyes crossed as she took in the sight of the exquisitely-folded pastry. Secure in its skirt of napkins, delicious strawberries and cream peeked from the top. “Oh my gosh!” she exclaimed as she accepted the delicacy. “You did not go all the way to Odéon for this, did you?”

Chat Noir shrugged, noncommittal, but his smirk gave him away.

Marinette shifted her red gloved hands so she could read the logo on the napkins. “You went to L’Avant Comptoir?” she exclaimed incredulously. “And got crêpes?”

“Apparently being Chat Noir has its advantages,” he said without a hint of bitterness. He took a bite out of his treat, licking cream and peaches from his lips. “Remember when we saved their head chef from that akuma attack?”

“That was weeks ago,” Marinette protested.

“They haven’t forgotten,” he said. “Apparently, Ladybug and Chat Noir get ushered to the front of the line from now on.”

Marinette swallowed strawberries and they felt heavy in her throat. “Isn’t that taking advantage?” she asked.

Chat Noir regarded her. “I think it’s harmless though,” he said.

Marinette stared at the pastry, thinking of the endless lines that stretched for blocks for the famous crêpes. Even when she got in, it was standing room only. It felt like so long ago that she had argued with Tikki about being a hero, about bringing Chat Noir into her fold despite his bad luck, about how she was just a person in a mask and people were weak.

Inside her head, Tikki’s voice chimed with wordless comfort. 

Marinette pushed those thoughts away. It was only food and Ladybug did so much for the city. Why shouldn’t she take advantage of something so simple?

Chat Noir’s shoulder bumped hers, warm and solid. “Something troubling you, My Lady?”

Marinette shook her head and bit gratefully into the crêpe. It felt like forever since she had last had one. “Nope,” she said cheerfully. “How did you know I liked strawberries?”

“Lucky guess,” Chat Noir said.

Marinette couldn’t help but smile. Little by little, he had stopped thinking of himself as a curse. His newfound confidence always bolstered her spirits and made her chest swell with warmth. She polished off the crêpe and leaned into Chat Noir with a sigh. 

“Thank you,” she said. “That was delicious.”

Chat Noir finished his crêpe and stuffed the napkins into the pocket of his suit. The bell at his throat jingled quietly as he shifted his weight to lean against her more firmly. They admired the city together, warm with each other there and secure in the things they had accomplished as Paris’s superhero duo. 

“Ladybug?” Chat Noir murmured.

“Hmm?” she responded, comfortable with her cheek on his shoulder.

He breathed out, his breath sweet with peaches. “Nothing,” he said. “Never mind.”

She took his hand in her own and squeezed it.

**X:You’re:X:Perfect:X:To:X:Me:X**

Drop me a review and let me know what you think of my little headcanon.

Questions, comments, concerns?


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